Legacy
by EmbersofImagination
Summary: AU. Elijah/Elena. What happens when a certain Original stumbles upon a doppelganger he wasn't expecting to find? And what is the true story of the Originals and their legacy?
1. Part 1

**Author's Notes:**

**I have finally caught up on all the Vampire Diaries episodes. As I thought about it later, reflecting back on the series, I came to realize that I had quite a fondness and liking for Elijah and his character arch. And I'd be lying if I said Daniel Gillies' awesome portrayal and utter hotness didn't help sway my perception. So, my muse I long thought dead sprang back to life and here we are, me attempting my first fic in this neck-of-the-woods.**

**I'll admit I don't quite know where this is going yet, myself. This is just something I'm writing with little to no plot – a breather from my fictionpress story that is the exact opposite, possessing a very complex plot.**

**This is unbeta'd, so excuse the mistakes and if you catch any, let me know so I can try and fix it. Thank you in advance.**

**If you don't like the pairing Elijah/Elena then don't read. I don't want flames for non-canon when I already warned you. And if you read anyway and don't like it, well then you are seriously lacking logic.**

**RATED M: For language, violence, alcohol consumption (legal and illegal), possible illicit drug use, and graphic sexual situations. You've been warned now, so don't complain later if any of these things come up. And for those not of appropriate age (under 17) I recommend you heed this warning; I don't like the thought of corrupting young minds.**

**AU: Alternate Universe, you'll see what I mean after the first chapter or two if this doesn't give it away already.**

**Read and Review.  
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><p>"<em><strong>I don't think about my legacy, if indeed, I have one."<strong>_

**Louis Farrakhan**

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><p><strong>Part I:<strong>

The sharp sound of glass shattering when it hit the ground seemed to echo. Shards of jagged ruby pieces littered the tiled kitchen floor, now the only remains of a century old family bowl. Despite having just destroyed her great-grandmother's wedding gift, Elena Gilbert was unable to bring herself to care. Her veins were thrumming with adrenaline; she was vaguely aware of a buzzing sound in her ears. Having her eyesight narrow due to the fight-or-flight response left only one thing for her to see, for her to be conscious of.

There standing just beyond the threshold of the opened door, silently waiting to be invited in, was the reminder of everything she wished to forget. For the past two months, she had been on the run: from her impending sacrifice, from a conniving psychotic lookalike, a vengeful ancient hybrid, and from _him_. Even as she fled and hid away, Elena had managed to keep the strangling ominous feeling of doom in the back of her mind. Until now. She did not want to face her fear or fate, not just yet. And still – in light of her attempt at distancing herself from everything and one involved – it came. He came.

"Elena," his cultured voice saying her name brought her back to the current moment, where she was standing in the middle of her kitchen-slash-dining room frozen to her spot out of shock and terror. "It's time we had our chat."

With just one sentence, the man had managed to instill the dread she had been so viciously fighting against. She could feel the taxing, debilitating claws of his words sink into her and loge there.

"No –" his voice, calm as ever, said when she twitched toward the back door "— you will stay your ground for once and _listen_."

Her voice caught in her throat, causing her articulation to falter in her reply. "I – I have nothing to say to you and I don't want to hear your excuse or reasoning."

"Elena, allow me the chance to explain," he stepped up to the door, leaning on his palms just outside the invisible boundary he could not cross, "Klaus is on a false trail . . . for now. We have time."

Elena shook her head, refusing to fall victim to more lies. The cliché saying, "Once bitten, twice shy," was fitting, on more than one level. She had let him in and trusted him, even after she knew the truth about what he was. He had taken something she gave blindly and unconditionally and abused it. The mistake would not be made twice.

"You were going to kill me – don't make that face! Whether it was by your hand or not, you still conspired to have me sacrificed, _murdered_, by your brother. Either way, you're just as guilty as Klaus." She spat the last statement in his face, an accusation she dared him to refute.

A twitch on the left side of his jaw was the only hint that she had pierced past his façade of indifference. His dark brown – nearly sable – eyes considered her with an intensity that used to make her blush.

"You know nothing," he stated coolly. "You know not of my intentions or desires, clearly."

Elena could not fight the shiver that ran up her spine when he said "desire" in his amalgamated accent of both old and new origins. Goosebumps blazed down her arms and along the back of her neck, causing the short hairs there to stand on end. Oh, she knew of his desires. It was only two months ago that they had been indulging themselves in the decadence of their combined passion. Just the memory of their last encounter had her flushing, her thighs rubbing together to fight off the wetness that appeared between them.

When she focused on him once more, she could have sworn that despite the distance between them and that his dark irises made it difficult to see them, his pupils were dilated. The flaring of his nostrils caught her attention and confirmed her suspicion. He scented her arousal.

"Elena," he crooned in a low register that dripped seduction, "_invite me in_."

And just like that, she snapped out of her lust induced haze. She may still have been new to the conscious world of vampires, but an idiot she was not.

"I think you can stay where you are for now. After all, aren't you the one that said never to invite a questionable person into my home? I think I'll take that advice you so helpfully gave me, _Elijah_."

The vampire pursed his lips, pausing to weigh her words.

"Fine. But as I'm sure you've come to know, I'm a patient man. I'll wait you out if I have to, you'll have to leave this be damned cabin eventually, sweetheart."


	2. Part 2

**Author's Note:**

**This is the revamp / replacement of what was originally "chapter one." For those of you going back and re-reading, don't worry, the "prologue" is the same, I just changed it to "Part I" so it made a little more sense.**

**The reason for the change was simply because I hit a dead end after writing the original chapter one, so I did this little gem to replace it so I actually have room to go somewhere with it without confusing myself.**

**This is unbeta'd.**

**Read and Review, I'd love to know some thoughts on this one.**

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><p><strong>Part II:<strong>

"You can hide in your little cabin, but rest assured Elena, you cannot beat me at this game," Elijah drawled out each word, annunciating with an articulation that bordered on menacing.

There wasn't a reply from the girl who stood terror-stricken ten feet away. Her eyes seemed fixated on his hands that were brushing the edge of the barrier that kept him out, wrapped around the doorframe. The wood was splintering and giving way beneath the herculean amount of pressure he was exerting through his curled fingers. Some slivers would probably loge in his finger-pads that he'd have to pick out later.

"Elena," his voice full of gravel broke the silence once more, "I want to talk. After throwing a vervain grenade at me, you owe me this much."

Tilting his head slightly, he thrust his chin up and out. Maybe a challenge wasn't the best option, but appealing to her odd habit of negotiation and fairness certainly was. She seemed to melt from her immobility, enough to take in a shuttering breath and lift a trembling hand to brush away some hair that had fallen into her face.

"Fine," she conceded after some long moments of internal debate. "But I'm not coming any closer."

Elijah arched a finely shaped brow, a considering look crossing his face. His lips pursed but the tensed hunch to his shoulders relaxed. After calculating out his chances, he dipped his head in acknowledgement, moving back from his threatening posture to a more aloof one with his spine straight.

Resorting to petty coercion was not his style. For now, he'd take what he could get. Elijah was wise enough to know it would take time, and those small battles won helped in the war. It didn't make it any less frustrating that Elena wouldn't let him near her.

"I suggest you take a seat then, this is a long time coming and there is much to tell," he advised cordially. When she was stiffly resting in an armchair a few feet over from where she had been previously standing, Elijah took the gesture as a positive sign. "I know this must be confusing for you, how difficult it must be. That's why I'm going to start at the beginning."

"Which is when, exactly?" she asked.

"Five-hundred years ago, when the first doppelgänger appeared."

She nodded, already familiar with the story. "You mean Katherine?"

There was a pause, Elijah seemed to be mulling over the idea of just how much to say. The hesitation had Elena crossing her arms, waiting for some excuse for why he was already finding things to omit.

"Katerina Petrova is one, yes," he finally agreed.

Elena sat up straighter, almost leaping out of her chair when the implications sunk in. "A-Are you saying that . . . there is another one?"

"There _was_. Katerina was one of two twin sisters – Katerina and Sofiya Petrova." When he spoke the new name, Elena noticed the softer roll to it, the hard 'Oh' sound dropped to a light 'Ah.' Similar to the accent Elijah used from time to time when angered or relaxed enough to let himself go. (Something she had only was just began to perceive before she ran).

"So if there were two doppelgängers, why haven't I heard about Sofiya before?"

Elijah flexed his shoulders, seeming to try to push away something that was trying to settle over him. For so long Elena believed she'd never see past his crafted pretense. It was only now, after a couple months separation, that it was dawning on her as she watched him fiddle with his cufflinks that she was more attune to the original's mercurial moods and esoteric quirks then she thought. Who else would know what signs to look for when he was stressed, annoyed, or angry?

Drawing her attention back onto the subject, he made eye contact once more as he slipped his hands into his brown slack pockets. "I believe that would be for the same reason why you once falsely believed Klaus was the oldest of all vampires. Because when people disappear and aren't current anymore history starts becoming gossip, and gossip eventually leads to myths – that can at some point become a good story placed on a self and forgotten because the significance is lost."

There were several minutes of silence. Elijah gave the girl time to breath, though he had his suspicions that Elena was well past surprised and moving on to reasoning.

What tipped him off before she spoke was her brows drawing together in concentration. "I'm still processing, but you're telling me that something that important was forgotten? How can that happen? Wouldn't someone remember . . . like Rose? She's the one that turned Katherine. "

He shrugged nonchalantly, "And why would Rose feel the need to tell anyone about a twin that has been dead for centuries?"

"_Dead?_"

"Come now, Elena," he rumbled in a coaxing tenor that was like warm honey, "how else would something that important be so easily dismissed in the twenty-first century? Certainly not because we're hiding everything we know because we bother to think of memories long past."

She caught on to the dig, rather quickly considering her head was swimming with this new information and all the possibilities that went along with it. Even if this claim was true, (Sun and the Moon Curse anyone?) where was this going?

"And?" she prodded impatiently.

"Sofiya is your direct ancestor, not Katerina." Before Elena could pick her jaw off the ground, Elijah kept going, forcing her to keep up. "After learning about your existence, I was suspicious about how you came about. I knew it was impossible for Katerina to have given birth, as she was most assuredly a virgin when my brother encountered her. If she had been with child while in England, we would have known.

"Her sister, Sofiya, was pregnant and bore a baby girl in Bulgaria. Part of the story you know is true. The infant was out of wedlock, it was a single female child that was taken from the mother upon birth and given to a different family. The reason why, though, was due to something else entirely."

Elena swallowed back the dead weight that was building in the back of her throat, like a gag made of saliva. What was she suppose to think about all this? And how could Elijah just dump this on her when there were so many other things going on?

"Why was she given away, then?" Elena asked once she found her voice, forcing away all her thoughts and hang ups to get the information she had been waiting for months to hear.

Elijah sighed, a reserved (even for him) expression rolled across his face. "Because Sofiya Petrova died during labor, from complications I was led to believe."

Sniffing, he glanced away toward the yard. The sun had set over two hours ago and the moon was just starting to peek above the tree line. Night had luxuriously stretched her way around them as he divulged yet another twist in Elena's family history. It was the preferred time for activity for the vampire, biologically wired into them like a predator. Something he most assuredly was.

Uncertain about what to feel, Elena opted for calmness. Hysteria or anger was not appropriate, as neither one of them could really do anything about what took place over five-hundred years ago. Moreover, she knew Elijah. This was not something he'd fabricate when its potential could do her so much damage. In spite of his ulterior motives and connections to Klaus, he was a honorable person at heart.

"Wha – what do you want me to say?"

Straightening, Elijah nodded to her then to his feet, an obvious gesture for what he _wanted_. She could see the yearning burning in the stubborn set of his strong jaw and penetrating brown eyes.

"I don't expect you to say anything," he finally said, "because I know you. Just like you know me. We promised each other when we first met that we would not have to justify our emotions or thoughts to each other so long as we agreed to _talk about it later_.

"Allow me the privilege to enter, Elena," he continued on, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder over her ears. "_Please_. I didn't come here to hurt you. Eventually someone was going to tell you about Sofiya and the sacrifice; I thought you'd prefer to hear it from me."

Elijah shifted uneasily as he watched her face contort. Clearly mentioning the impending barbaric ritual was not helping. It stabbed at something inside him, but he knew right now what she needed was not his sympathy or reminders. Elena need his empathy, she needed him to be the strong one while she fell to pieces. Something he could not do, currently.

"If you had not run away from me before I was allowed the chance to explain myself, you would have known I contacted Klaus _not_ to give up your location but to tell him the promise I made to him centuries ago was void. Had you been paying any attention to what I've told you over the last five months we spent together, you'd know how incredibly significant a choice that was for me."

Elena took in a breath deep and long. Trying to ignore the pain that radiated from her head and chest, into her limbs and back, she swiped the back of her hand against her eye. It was too much. And right now, she desperately needed her other half back to take it all away. The question was, could she trust him?


End file.
